Good Side of Sin (8 page)

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Authors: K. S. Haigwood

BOOK: Good Side of Sin
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Thoros turned away from the seething woman, walked down the stairs and left through the front door.

Ethan

“Can I have some more potato salad?” Ethan said around a half mouthful of Bar-B-Q chicken.

Cross slid him the bowl of potatoes, and then resumed her relaxed position in the chair to his right, with her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

Ethan nodded. “Thanks.”

“So this is Trick, eh?”

Mid-bite, Ethan looked up through his soft brown eyelashes at the new addition strutting his way into the room. His cowboy hat was cocked up high on his brow, the butt of his gun was peeking out from his tacky, brown blazer, and a shit-eating grin plastered below his cherry red cheeks. The guy looked like he was one drive-thru stop away from a heart attack. Right away, Ethan knew right away he didn’t like the man. He couldn’t pick out what bothered him the most about the guy, but he knew he didn’t want to stay here long enough to figure it out.

His eyes cut over to watch Cross stiffen in her chair and assumed this must be Boggs,
the boss
.

Ethan looked back to his fork and, before taking the bite, he said, “My name is Ethan. Only my friends call me Trick.”

Boggs lost his smile and slapped the table with his palm, causing the red SOLO cup beside Ethan’s plate to slosh iced tea onto the doily. Boggs moved closer to Ethan and leaned down to talk by his ear. “Listen here,
boy
, from what I hear you are more than capable of holding your own out there with the criminals and punk kids with bad attitudes, but I put little snots like you away every day for thinking they can get one over on me. So I advise you to check your attitude and tell me what I want to know. Otherwise we can take a nice little ride downtown and have this conversation in a room a little smaller and a whole lot less comfortable. What do you say? You feel like talking yet?”

Ethan blinked down at his spilt drink, and then looked up at the fat man without fear in his eyes. He shrugged. “I never said I wouldn’t talk to you. I was only introducing myself. What should I call you? Captain Panties-in-a-Wad? Or is it Lieutenant Crabby-Pants?”

There was a short chuckle/cough that came from somebody in the room, but Ethan didn’t look around to see who had done it, nor did Boggs. Ethan guessed Boggs didn’t have any friends at this party.

Ethan watched as the man stood back upright and moved his blazer out of the way to reveal a six-pointed gold star. “I’m a U.S. Marshal, son. Find your manners, and find ’em quick, or I’ll make sure Bubba knows your first, middle and last name before you even get past intake.”

Ethan had no interest in ever meeting up with
Bubba
, nor was he particularly keen with the idea of being on a first name basis with the dude, so he decided the puns could wait, at least until after the Marshal left the room.

Swallowing what was left of his dignity, Ethan nodded in understanding. “Nice to meet you, Marshal. My name is Trick.”

Boggs grinned, and then looked up to meet the eyes of a very livid Cross. “Right, I knew we could all play nice together. How’ve you been, Cross?” He looked over to Cabrejos, who was leaning against the wall, looking out the window. “I want to thank you nice folks for cleaning up a lot of the drug business in Vegas, but I’ll be taking it from here.”

Cross shot to her feet. “Like hell you will! This is my case, Marshal! This is not your business—”

As Boggs’ eyebrows disappeared behind the brim of his hat, he shook his head. “The original case is still yours—by all means go find your drug dealers—but when five of the last ten people a person has come in contact with turns up missing, with two of them being drug enforcement agents, well, that person becomes a suspect for kidnapping and murder real fast around here.” Boggs placed his hands gently on the table and leaned in closer to Cross. “And that, honey, makes it
my
business.”

Ethan looked at the Marshal, and then over to Cross’ red face and trembling hands.

Is he talking about me? I haven’t murdered anyone! What the hell is this?

Ethan jumped to his feet and quickly backed up to the entrance of the dining room, but two guys in slacks and shoulder holsters stopped him from going any farther. “What the hell’s going on?” he shouted, and fought to tear his arms away from the men, but they only tightened their grip on him. Breathing heavily, he looked at Cross. “You know I haven’t killed anyone! You were there with me when that monster killed those guys last night, and you were there when his friends showed up and took him and the bodies with them! Tell them! Tell them that you saw three guys come in the hotel room, pick up the psycho killer and the two dead bodies, and then just disappear into thin air!” Ethan twisted and jerked free of the guys and then took a step toward Cross. “Tell them the truth!”

Boggs chuckled. “They have medicine for this sort of thing down at the jail, son. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” He nodded to the two men at Ethan’s back and they grabbed his arms again.

“Wait!” Cross shouted, and then her eyes shifted back and forth between Boggs and Ethan. She swallowed, audibly. “He’s telling the truth. I don’t know how to explain it, but it happened just like he said it did.”

Boggs glared at her through narrowed eyes. “You ’spect me to believe that?”

Cross huffed and shook her head as she looked back at Ethan. “No, I don’t, but it’s what happened, regardless of what you believe. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Cabrejos still doesn’t believe me, but the fact remains that every dealer Ethan has delivered to this week has gone missing before we could bust them. I had to know what was going on, so we set up a fake deal and had Ethan carry for us. He brought the product to Blake and Donahue in a suite at Caesar’s Palace. Everything was going fine until we heard a knock at the door. Donahue went to check it out and then the door was blown inward, on top of him. Ethan and I hid under the bed and watched as a guy walked into the room and killed Blake, and then he took the decoy product from Ethan’s backpack and sat in a chair. After screaming for a few moments, as if he were in some sort of horrible pain, he closed his eyes and went to sleep or passed out. I’m not sure what the hell happened to him, actually; it was all real confusing and unexpected, to say the least.”

“Uh-huh,” Boggs said. “And why didn’t you do your job? This murderer should be in custody or dead right now.”

“I—I was just about to, but then we heard footsteps and three other men came into the room and picked up all three of them, and then just disappeared.”

“You just let them all walk out with a killer and two dead agents, without trying to stop them?” He shook his head. “We have medicine for you, too, honey. That statement will probably cost you your badge and—”

Cross slammed her fist on the table between them, getting everyone’s attention, and then she glared at the Marshal. “No! They didn’t just walk out of the room! They disappeared, just like Ethan said. They vanished into thin air, without a trace left behind. Believe what you want to believe, but I’m not letting you take my witness with you today, Marshal, not until we figure out what happened to the missing people, including Blake and Donahue.”

Eight more guys walked into the room and stood by Cross and Cabrejos, and then turned to face the Marshal. The familiar ‘chick-chick’ was heard throughout the room, and then the barrel of a shotgun came into Ethan’s view. A further glance showed him a little, old, white-haired lady with her finger on the trigger, pointing it at one of the two men behind Ethan.

One of the guys beside Cross picked up a chicken leg and took a bite. He pointed what remained of the leg at Boggs and said, “You three won’t be the first dead bodies my granny has buried ’round here. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste any more of my time here if you intend to leave.”

The two guys released Ethan and he walked slowly to stand behind Carlos.

Boggs’ face turned a brighter shade of crimson as his eyes widened in anger. “You’ll all lose your badges and go to prison for—”

“Get on outta here!” Granny spat, and waved the barrel of the shotgun at the Marshal. “We’ll deal with them if and when anybody else is dumb enough to show up.”

Boggs eyed her warily, but backed out of the room with his men. “I’ll be back—”

“Yeah, and I’ll be waiting for ya! Go on! Get your ass outta here!” Granny said, and then pulled the trigger of the double-barrel shotgun, sending a round of buckshot right above their heads, into the wall and ceiling.

The Marshal and his men turned and ran out the front door without looking back.

Ethan took in a deep breath and turned to look at Cross. “I hope you have a plan, because I don’t think he will be so friendly when he comes back.”

Cross raised the hem of her skirt and tucked away a small pistol in the thigh holster on her left leg. “I do have a plan: to not be here when he returns.”

Ethan observed the rest of the men in the room as they put away weapons he hadn’t even realized had been exposed. He felt a gentle tug on his arm and looked down to the little old woman that had scared the Marshal away.

“C’mon over here and finish your meal, hun. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you while you’re here at Granny’s house. It’s gonna take that ole boon a while yet to talk anybody into coming back out here with him anyway.” She sniggered a little, and then gave him a subtle wink. “Let’s just say the rest of the Marshals like me a bit more than they like him,” Granny said, and then gave him a warm smile.

Ethan returned the gesture easily. “Thanks, Granny.”

Chapter 10
Josselyn

I looked from the sheet-covered bodies to Troy and Baddon’s patient eyes, and then nodded. Baddon took a corner of the sheet and removed it in one swift motion.

I quickly brought my hand up to cover my mouth and nose, and turned away from the sight with a quick jerk that almost brought me to my knees. They were dead all right, some a little more so than the rest. I don’t know what I thought I might find: the humans asleep, resting peacefully in a demon-induced coma and waiting for an angel to revive them back to their normal, boring selves? Nope. No such luck for me. The decaying process was running wide open with no sign of slowing down, much less reversing.

Heaven had no classes for bringing people back from the dead. That was God’s job to do if he wanted it done, and since five pair of eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling, I could only assume they were going to stay the way they were now—dead.

I sucked in a shuddering breath as my mouth watered. The need to vomit crashed down on me like a ton of bricks. The air-conditioning unit kicked on at that exact moment, circulating more of the foul fragrance around the room and up my sinus cavity. Through my blurred vision, I spotted a toilet just on the other side of an open door in the far corner of the room.
Restroom!
I made a run for it and slid to my knees as this morning’s breakfast erupted into the porcelain bowl.

After a few moments—and a lot of deep breaths—I felt a cool cloth blot my forehead and neck. I sighed and reached for Troy’s other hand. “What’s going on? What is happening to Heaven, Troy? Angels can lie, feel physical pain, and now this. What is this and what is next? Heaven crumbles at Lucifer’s feet?” I said, but could say no more as the sobs took control and closed my throat up tight with emotion.

I heard the toilet flush, and then Troy took my hands and helped me stand.

“Ye kin dae this, ma wee lamb. I’m here wi’ ye,” Troy said, and I nodded, but I honestly didn’t feel any better about the whole situation. He had been there with me only a moment ago when I’d nearly thrown up on the smelly corpses, but I couldn’t imagine doing this without him. That thought alone made me feel jittery with the early signs of a panic attack.

Pushing what couldn’t be helped right now to the very back of my mind, I huffed and turned to the restroom door that Troy had graciously closed for the sake of my gag reflex. I could do this. I didn’t have another choice.

“I’m ready.”

Troy smiled, and then reached for the knob and pushed the door open. “That’s a lassie.”

We walked into a thick mist of flowers and berries, and I laughed out loud as I waved my hand to clear the air enough to breathe.

Baddon had an aerosol can in each of his big hands and he was spinning around the room, dispersing their contents in every nook and cranny he could find. Looking worried, and maybe a little guilty, he stopped when he saw that I had emerged from the restroom.

“‘Sweet Pea’ and ‘Fresh Berries’?” I asked.

Baddon blinked in confusion, and then looked at the two cans of
Glade
in his hands. He smiled. “
Wandering Stream
and
Angel Whispers
. Isn’t that just appropriate for the occasion?”

I smiled, letting it reach all the way to my eyes to better help him relax. I could tell he was blaming himself for not prepping the bodies a little better for viewing. It wasn’t his fault at all, though. I was the one that hadn’t been prepared.

“You okay?”

“I’m good,” I said, and then looked back to the pool table. He had covered the bodies again. I could only guess he assumed I wouldn’t want to see them or maybe that I was giving up on trying to find out what was going on with Thoros. Well, I wasn’t giving up. I just needed a minute. That was the first time I had thrown up since I ceased being human. I motioned with my hand toward the sheet-covered bodies. “I’d like to take another look, if you don’t mind.”

He gave me another weary look, then just shrugged and, pinching the sheet between his fingers, he pulled it gently until all five corpses were fully exposed to me. “Sorry about earlier,” he said sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t mention it. It was me that wasn’t prepared,” I said, and then looked to the bodies, moving in forward for a closer look.

They all looked the same, except for the big bald guy on the end. Where the others didn’t seem to have any lacerations, or anything really to suggest their cause of death, the bald, dark-skinned male—now turned a deep shade of purple in death—had a flat spot on the back of his head and a single line of dried blood coming from his ears and nostrils; he hadn’t died right away. Hmm…

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